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- There's a spot far away from the place I am standing.
A spot which my fond heart shall never forget.
But memory clings round
It so pure and so tender
That even it's name brings a throb of regret.
Regret for the long vanished days of my childhood.
When earth was all pleasureBut could I recall them those bright golden hours
In spent long ago in far famed Rosduff.
There is the grand river sweeps down by the meadow
Passing silent and swiftly by Mc Naboe's mill.
Gliding down on it the bridge which encircles it's bosom.
Where once stood the castle so peaceful and still
In many a dream do I gaze on Crott hill.(continues on next page)Transcribed by a member of our volunteer transcription project.